


Holy

by yeaka



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ficlet, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 18:35:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11583771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Sidon sees more than the others.





	Holy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [griva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/griva/gifts).



> A/N: Fill for grivass’ “25 [mess] sidon/link” request on [my tumblr](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/) [from this list](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/163120603835/prompt-list-4).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Legend of Zelda or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

He immediately goes rushing down the twisting path, darting through the ever-present rain, ignoring Muzu’s angered cries behind him. A few of the guards he passes open their mouths at seeing him, but they all step aside at his piercing look, and then he’s down on the central platform, pushing through the whispering crowd. Muzu’s shouts still ring in his ears— _don’t touch it, your highness; it’s a mess!_ —but Sidon pays the words no mind. He even hears Torfeau muttering about what an absolute _wreck_ has washed up on their doorstep, but Sidon still doesn’t pause. He makes it past the onlookers, beyond Gaddison’s control of them, and hurries down the bridge. He can see Bazz waiting at the end, barring off the Hylian that’s collapsed against their tiles. The poor thing is already on its knees, its head hung, a puddle of muddied water all around it. Bazz glances up at Sidon’s approach, and Sidon can see the pity in his gaze. 

When Sidon finally slows to a stop before them, the Hylian looks up, and Sidon’s breath is stopped at the pure _blue_ of those crystal eyes, as clear and beautiful as the waters of their shrine. Sidon stares into them, into the handsome face and the sunshine-yellow hair slicked along soft skin, before he can seem to work his mouth. Then he kneels slowly down, offering out a hand, and he murmurs gently, “I am Prince Sidon. I welcome you to Zora’s Domain.”

The Hylian gives Sidon’s hand a dizzy look. But he does lift his to meet it, so _small_ by comparison, feather-light against Sidon’s palm. Sidon fastens tight around it and tries to use that grip to help the Hylian to his feet, but he stumbles on his lithe legs, and Sidon catches him about the middle. He is a _mess_ , from the knots in his silken hair to the bruised scratches along his forearms, to the tears in his plain, beige clothes and the calluses on his bare feet. Sidon spends a moment just helping the little man—or what he assumes to be, as he’s met few Hylians—to steady out. Then he bends to scoop the Hylian up into his arms, caught around the middle back and below the knees, and turns to carry him along the bridge. Bazz gives no protest.

The crowd at the end parts for Sidon’s return, and they dissipate as soon as he gives them pointed looks, sweeping over each set of individual eyes to hammer his silent order home—this is a person, not a spectacle. Sidon moves right past them, while the Hylian rests quietly against his chest. Sidon doesn’t return to the throne room, doesn’t yet want to present their guest to his father, and doesn’t want to give Muzu any bait. It’s clear to him that this poor creature was assaulted on the way to their domain, as the world’s become a harsh, bitter place, and that’s no fault of the Hylians. Perhaps when this one is presented properly and given the chance to speak, Muzu will finally see that. 

For now, Sidon takes the Hylian down into the pool around the shrine, where the water is fresh and cleansing. He gently lowers the man into it, and the man keeps a steadying arm on his bicep, the other slipping free to wade against the water. As the sounds of Sidon’s people die into the distance, Sidon asks, “What is your name?”

The Hylian looks at him, then reaches up to wrap an arm loosely around his neck. Sidon lets himself be guided down, lets his face be brought close to the Hylian’s, and the Hylian opens his mouth, lips working. They make no sound. But the wind seems to whisper _Link_ , and for one, fleeting moment, Sidon could swear the shrine is _glowing_.

When he looks at it again, it’s still and grey. But Sidon asks, “Link?” and the Hylian nods. 

From there, Link releases his hold on Sidon’s shoulders. He falls back, and Sidon swiftly moves to help him sit against the ledge, only half submerged. He seems too tired to do anything else, so Sidon aids him, first gathering the ragged fabric that clings to Link’s slender frame. Link helpfully lifts his arms for Sidon to pull it off, and it’s only after Sidon’s set it down about the brim of the room that he remembers Hylians feel differently about their naked bodies. Link seems to have no trouble with it. At least, not in the privacy of this little room, alone with only Sidon. Sidon treasures that trust, and he takes extra care to be slow and cautious as he takes the hem of Link’s trousers down his trim waist. Again, Link lifts to help, even steadying himself against Sidon’s broader shoulders. When Sidon’s pulled the tattered material away, Link’s left bare, pink flesh embracing the purified water of the shrine. Sidon can only hope it’ll soothe a Hylian as much as it would a Zora. Sidon takes no other liberties—he doesn’t stare at the flat expanse of Link’s semi-exposed chest, the brisk jut of Link’s tight hips, or the smooth curves of the v between his legs, though all tempt him. As soon as the clothes are gone, Sidon tears his gaze away, and instead takes a small scoop of water in his hands to lift over Link’s head.

He drizzles it down the back, then pets it through the muddled hair there, only to find a strange tie between his thick fingers. Link hisses once at the tug, to which Sidon quickly says, “I am sorry.” But Link only lifts his own hands to withdraw the tie, allowing his locks to fall free, and then he leans back again into Sidon’s grip. And Sidon resumes combing it back and running water over it, meaning to clean Link entirely.

He’ll have to find the right food for Link, he thinks—he doesn’t fully remember what Hylians eat, but he has a vague idea. He might need a few lotions and salves to massage into Link’s bruises, something he intends to do himself, half for hospitality and half because he can’t seem to pull away. When he finishes with Link’s hair, he looks down at Link’s peaceful face, reading all the wondrous relief that’s seeped into it, and he can’t help but think that Link’s no kind of wreck at all, but something wholly _beautiful_. A few scratches and tangles hardly mar that. Then Link dons a dazzling smile, and Sidon’s heart skips several beats. 

Looking back up at him, Link lets out a little sigh. Then he leaps up suddenly, showing strength Sidon didn’t expect from his stature, and lunges right into Sidon’s arms. Sidon finds himself enveloped in a warm embrace, one he eagerly returns. As Sidon accepts the wordless gratitude, he promises, “You are safe here now, my friend. And whatever you should need from now on, I will help you.”

When Link detangles from him, a strong determination now burns in those blue eyes. Sidon meant his words. But he gets the curious feeling that _Link_ might just be the one to help _him_.


End file.
